Bane of Slytherin: Book 1
by TheReaper115
Summary: This story follows the first Harry Potter book and shares many words and paragraphs as the book. I don't even own the words for this due to that fact. I'm basically just retelling the story through the eyes of an OC. P.S. John Slytherin is a bad ass.
1. Prologue: The Fall of Slytherin

**_(This story is basically a variation of the first Harry Potter book. I own nothing, not even the words. This is all J.K. Rowling. I just told the story from a new but very similar point of view. Please don't hurt me.)_**

-o-

Ferris Slytherin stood by the door of the family mansion, surrounded by his relatives, all of whom were powerful wizards. He watched the misty driveway through the front door's window, waiting for the invasion.

Ferris was an ugly man with brown eyes (the left of which he was obviously blind in with how badly it was glazed over and dull in color), several facial scars, greasy brown hair, and two missing teeth (his left canine and another tooth that had been right beside it to its left). He was tall, but scrawny, and very pale.

This did not, however, prevent him from becoming the most powerful wizard in the Slytherin family, even without schooling or help from the rest of the wizarding world.

Soon enough, Mary Slytherin, Ferris's wife, came out of a hatch in the floor. After she was out, the hatch was closed, magically concealed, and covered up with a large rug.

She had tears in her eyes as she walked over to stand next to her husband.

Mary Slytherin was a beautiful woman with long, raven-colored hair, and bright green eyes. She was thin and a little pale, but not so much that she looked sickly. Her smile could normally light up a room, but right now, it was nowhere to be found.

"Greg has Johnny in the basement," she said, her hand finding her husband's. "Once this is all over, the memory charms will kick in and Greg won't remember anything that happened tonight. He'll know everything about the magic world except for how we died."

"Good," Ferris said, "Greg will be able to raise Johnathan to be more humble, just like we asked him to do in the letter we gave him. Even with all the No-Maj money our family has amassed, Greg should be able to raise him up without spoiling him. He won't become some high and mighty backstabber like what the Slytherin family is so well known for producing. I won't let my family go out with that as our reputation; I won't let our family go dark forever."

Mary nodded, tears streaming down her face. Then she stopped. She and Ferris could both see several cloaked figures in the mist coming towards the house.

"They're here!" Ferris shouted to the dozens of Slytherins behind him in the main hall of the mansion. Everyone drew their wands and pointed them at the door.

Ferris and Mary got away from the door and got ready with the rest of the Slytherin family.

"That loon," an old man said. "I can't believe he would want us out of the way this badly. Probably angry that we didn't come find him since we're his last wizard blood, even though we had no idea he existed since the Slytherin family has had no contact with its branch off. Good thing we sent that message to Dumbledore to come get Johnathan when he's old enough for schooling. He needs the best teaching, and Hogwarts is the best."

"Riddle's just an angry child, Uncle Finnegan," Ferris said with a grim look. "Right now, let's just stop with the rambling and focus on the fact that he wants to kill us and I don't want to go down without a fight!"

The old man chuckled and said, "Sure, why not, nephew? I've lived a good life; why not go out with a bang?"

Five minutes later, the door was blown open and every Slytherin in the house was dead… except for one. A single boy whom the attacker's did not know existed… a boy named Johnathan Slytherin…


	2. Chapter 1: John Slytherin

**_(I hope that everyone's enjoying the book so far. I know that I'm new to this, but darn; All I got on Uzumaki's New Friend were harsh remarks about how the OC was too strong. Well, John is too! Trust me, there is an underlying point behind it. It will be addressed in later books. Sorry if you can't wait that long. I did decide to publish this today since the earlier one was just a prologue so... yeah... Anyway, here's the new chapter of Bane of Slytherin; enjoy! I OWN NOTHING!)_**

-o-

Johnathan Slytherin was working on an old motorcycle in his garage when a large owl with black feathers swooped in through the open garage door and landed on his shoulder.

"Hello Grim," John greeted his pet, not looking up from the work he was performing so as not to lose his place as the rather large bird looked around the garage.

Grim had been left outside of the Slytherin mansion's front door, freshly hatched, along with a supply of worm smoothies (ground up worms) and instructions on how to feed him until he could eat complete solids.

He was now a two-foot-tall owl with a humongous wing span that John had never been able to measure precisely. He was solid black and had the shape of a great horned owl except for his beak, which was long and pointed and had serrated teeth in it.

John was an eleven-year-old American boy living in Texas. His ancestry was from England and had an important role in the past with something; that much he knew… but he hadn't found out much after that.

John's family was dead, killed by something when he was a baby. The stories of the neighbors always varied from car crashes to gang violence to mass suicide. He didn't know which one was accurate but he figured that some mysteries would forever remain a mystery.

John was of average height with long, shaggy, dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He had a thin build but plenty of muscle, as he had to stay in shape in order to continue learning kickboxing and other forms of martial arts from the man who was considered his legal guardian.

Apparently, this man was a childhood friend of John's father, but he had no idea what had happened to his family. His name was Gregory Jones, and he was a former kickboxer from Georgia.

Greg had been teaching John kickboxing for years. After all, he was the boy's legal guardian and someone had to teach him to defend himself.

John was a highly intelligent boy, constantly getting straight A's in his school report cards and being able to easily comprehend just about anything he was taught since he was six, plus memorizing it all thanks to an eidetic memory. Greg was always proud of him because of this.

Right now, John was trying to fix up an old Harley Davidson he had found abandoned on an old, overgrown dirt road. A worn out garage next to an abandoned shack had housed it and kept it in better condition than he had expected.

John looked down at his scarred up arms, almost every single mark gained from accidents while working in the garage. They were covered in black grease and exhausted from working with the parts all day and yet he still hadn't been able to make it run properly without burning through gas at an alarming rate or making it rattle or some other problem.

"Damn it," John said, almost losing his temper. "I've already taken the entire thing apart and pieced it back together. What the hell is wrong with this thing?"

John was known for his foul mouth. Though he could speak respectfully if he wished, he saw no reason in acting stuck up and snobby all the time. He may be rich, but he liked it in his humble little garage because it wasn't too flashy.

John placed the last few pieces together and spotted a small sign of rotting in the newly attached fuel line.

"Shit," he said. "I should've checked the thing before I attached it. I must've grabbed one of the old ones. I always miss the simple things."

Fifteen minutes later, a new fuel line was attached while the removed one was in a half-filled plastic trash can big enough to fit a full grown man inside of, as long as he crouched.

John looked around the garage.

It was a small space, only big enough for one car to fit in at most. The walls were littered with tools and parts, each one belonging solely to John through inheritance. The family garage housed all of vehicles, but this little workshop had been constructed by Greg just for John as a birthday gift.

Greg had taught John how to work on vehicles since his day job had been a mechanic. He was amazed at how easily John took to the subject and enjoyed it.

Suddenly, hooting could be heard from outside the garage. But Grim was on John's shoulder.

"What the hell?" John questioned.

He walked outside and found a young barn owl perched on an old bicycle's rusted handle bar. It was holding an envelope in its beak. Grim's feathers fluffed up a bit as he anticipated an attack from a wild animal.

"Okay, this is new," John said. "Since when are there messenger owls?"

The owl dropped the letter and flew off.

"Wait!" John called, running forward and grabbing the letter before waving it in the air. "What the hell is this for!?"

The owl was gone in a second, so John relented and looked down at the letter.

 _What the hell? It's for me…_

"John!" Greg's voice shouted from the front porch of the old mansion, interrupting his thoughts. "Dinner's ready!"

-o-

"Hey, uh, Greg," John said in between two big mouthfuls of food. "I got a letter today."

Greg was a tall, thin man with a good layer of muscle coating his body due to his constant training, though he hid it well with the long-sleeved, button-up shirts and blue jeans he always wore. He was completely bald and had deep, brown eyes. He was a kind but strict man, and something about his facial features made him look the part.

"When?" Greg asked, loading more mashed potatoes onto his plate. "I checked the mailbox right after the mailman came, but nothing was inside besides bills."

Dinner that night was fried chicken, coleslaw, and mashed potatoes next to a gravy bowl.

"An owl delivered it," John said, jamming coleslaw into his mouth.

"What?!" Greg said, almost choking on a chicken leg.

"A barn owl," John answered, picking up a thigh. "The letter has my name on it; apparently, I've been accepted into some big school near London." John immediately began stripping the flesh from the bone and he began eating the first while letting the latter stay on his plate.

"Huh," was the only response Greg gave. "Maybe they caught wind of your I.Q."

"Yeah, but is two-hundred-twenty-seven really _that_ big of a deal? And why the owl?" John asked.

"YES!" Greg shouted. "For the last time, stop being modest! And as for the owl, I have no idea."

"First of all, I'd prefer to be brave or loyal; second of all, the owl thing is weird," John mumbled.

"You are brave and loyal, not to mention clever," Greg responded with a strange smile. "After all, every time I have a bad problem with an engine, you seem to be able to fix it with a new type of solution each time. And forget the owl."

"Okay, fine, we'll forget the owl; still, why would some random school that I've never even heard of try to recruit me?" John asked.

"I don't know," Greg said. "Maybe we should go see and find out."

John looked closely at Greg. He was sweating slightly and didn't look John in the eyes. Greg also seemed to be humming very quietly, something he only did when he was hiding a surprise.

"Greg, what's going on?" John asked.

"Well, John, I can't be certain unless you tell me the name of the school," Greg dodged.

"Hogwarts."

"Oh…"

"Tell me, how well did you plan out that dodge?"

"Not very well, my boy."

"I thought not; now answer!"

"Well…" Greg began to speak as he scooted back his chair. "I'm not really the best to explain it because I can't really provide proof. I know it drives you nuts, but you'll find out when you get there."

"Get there?" John asked.

"Yes, John," Greg answered, standing up. "You'll be going to Hogwarts this year."

"What are you playing at, old man?" John questioned.

Greg walked behind him and placed a hand on his head, ruffling up his unkempt hair more than it usually was.

"You'll see," he said, walking away from the table. "I just hope you don't lose that cool of yours."

John looked around the table and realized something.

"You old bastard!" he screamed down the hallway leading from the large kitchen to the bedrooms. "It's your turn to do the dishes!"

Greg's laughter echoed down the hall.

-o-

 ** _(Thanks for reading. Please don't forget to review. And before you guys say that this character is ridiculous, he's based off of someone I knew back in elementary and middle school. Trust me, this personality is possible, just unlikely.)_**


	3. Chapter 2: Slytherin Meets Potter

**_(This Chapter will be a lot longer than the others before it. I hope you guys can appreciate the time it took to do this, but all rights go to J.K. Rowling and other parties. I had nothing to do with any actual plot development and most of the things written in this chapter come straight from the book. I want no real credit, I just want to know if I amused people by the telling of this story through the eyes of someone new. I OWN NOTHING!)_**

-o-

"What the hell am I doing here, Greg?" John asked.

"Shut up and stand up straight," Greg responded.

Greg and John were both standing at the end of their long dirt driveway. The large, old fashioned, white mansion could be seen about three football fields away. The asphalt from the driveway was generating a lot of heat in the brutal sunlight.

"I can't," John said. "I'm still sore from our sparring. Now, why am I dressed up again?"

Greg chuckled a bit.

John was wearing a black, button-up dress shirt and nice, black, formal dress pants. Greg was wearing a long-sleeved, blue plaid, button-up shirt with blue jeans.

"Because I want you to be," Greg answered.

"That sounded a little creepy, old man," John snickered.

"I said shut up."

Suddenly, a deep voice cleared its throat behind them.

Greg and John both spun around and took fighting stances.

A furry giant of a man with black beetle eyes was staring down at them.

Greg relaxed but John didn't. The giant looked as each of them apprehensively

 _Whoa, he's huge!_ was John's only thought as he took in the man's full height.

Even Greg seemed a little wary of his size when John took another glance at him.

"Johnathan Slytherin?" the man asked in an English accent.

"That's him," Greg said, pointing to John.

"I'm here ter pick yeh up fer Hogwarts shopping," the giant said.

"Wonderful," John said sarcastically. "Greg, what's going on here?"

"You can trust him, John," Greg said. "He's going to take you shopping for the special school supplies that you're going to need."

"I don't even know his name."

"Hagrid," the man said bluntly.

John took it that the man didn't like him due to the look and abrupt way of speaking that he was receiving from the giant.

"Did I do something to make you angry?" John asked.

"We'll see once yer sorted," Hagrid said, pulling out a pink umbrella. "Now come on then an' grab hold a this; we've got ter make another stop."

-o-

"WHAT THE HELL!?" shouted John as he was slightly shaking in the cold rain.

Hagrid grunted as he stepped forward.

"Keep quiet, yeh bloody Slytherin," he said. "I 'ave some business to attend to out here; Hogwarts business, that is."

Hagrid had teleported them to a small island with a sad little shack in the middle of a storm. Somehow, after John had grabbed the umbrella's end, he had felt himself being pulled forward forcefully and not being able to let go. Everything seemed to blur and spin around him, making him a bit queasy. Finally, they had come to a stop in front of a shack that looked as if it were falling apart.

John wasn't an easily unsettled person, but BEING TELEPORTED was the last thing he had expected; especially when it was able to get him all the way from Texas to…

"Hey, where are we?" John asked.

"England," Hagrid answered, walking up to the shack.

John began to move towards it as well, wanting to be out of the cold rain as soon as possible. The cold didn't bother him, nor did getting wet, but he knew that he would more than likely catch a cold if he stayed out there.

Hagrid pounded on the door and jiggled the handle.

"Bloody Muggles got the place locked up!" he shouted when neither of these produced any results.

John saw that the doorway around the doorknob's lock was severely dry-rotted.

"Allow me," he said.

"What're yeh doin'?" Hagrid asked as he moved aside and allowed John to take his place.

"Getting results," John said before performing a side kick on the door, thus breaking it open.

"No need fer that," Hagrid said unsurely.

"Sorry; you looked pretty desperate," John responded politely. "But I'll try to let you take the lead from now on."

"Well, yer a good bit more polite 'n most Slytherins, at least," Hagrid said, stepping inside.

"There are no other Slytherins," John stated with a twinge of pain in his heart.

"It's not yer name I was meanin'," Hagrid said with a grin, stepping inside before John could question him.

Two boys, a man, and a woman were all standing in the room when they came into the dingy old shack. The boys had obviously been sleeping in this room, one on the couch and one on the floor, given the presence of blankets, and the man and woman looked as if they had just run in from another room since a nearby doorway was now open.

"How the hell do you people live here?" John asked as Hagrid turned around and faced the door, closing it. When he moved away from it, the doorway was back to normal, as if John had never kicked it in.

 _What the hell is going on here?_ John wondered as Hagrid moved away, not having seen what Hagrid was doing thanks to the man's large size blocking his view. He then looked around at the shack once more.

It was a small shack with only a few other rooms blocked off by closed doors (with the exception of the one near the man and woman). It barely held out the storm and didn't hold out the cold, plus the smell of dead fish and mildew was obvious and revolting.

The family was fairly ugly. The man, who was holding a rifle, was large, fat, had no neck, and his face was beet red behind his large mustache, but covered in fear. The woman beside him looked like some kind of ugly crane with her thin and pointed features, blond hair, and ladder-length neck, all of which looked uglier thanks to the fear that was also on her face. The boy on the couch was fat and ugly with blonde hair, looking almost like an exact replica of the man with the gun, all the way down to the beat red face covered in fear, minus the mustache.

Then came the boy who was off to the side; he was far less ugly than the others, though he still looked a bit wimpy with his unkempt black hair, scrawny build, thick glasses, and trembling legs.

 _He's terrified_ , thought John.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh?" Hagrid said to no one in particular. "It's not been an easy journey…"

"Right…" John said uneasily. "Journey…"

Hagrid strode to the sofa where the fat boy was taking up the whole thing since he seemed to have only just sat up after having just woken up.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," Hagrid said.

The fat kid squeaked and ran over to the couple whom John assumed to be his parents. He hid behind the woman, who was in turn hiding behind the man.

"An' here's Harry!" Hagrid said.

John saw the giant smile through his jungle of black hair.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," he said. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

A strange, raspy noise sounded out from the fat man with a large mustache.

"I demand that you both leave at once," the man said, shakily gripping his rifle. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Huh, I always thought they'd call it something different in England for some reason," John said, not in the least bit scared of the man with the gun.

 _With how much he's shaking_ , thought John, _I doubt he'd be able to hit me even if he was willing to fire, which he obviously isn't._

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," Hagrid said.

John's brain did a double take when he watched Hagrid reach behind him over the back of the sofa, snatch the rifle, bend the barrel into a knot, and toss it aside.

"What the hell is going on here!?" he cried. "You just turned a twenty-two rifle into a pretzel!"

"Hush up!" Hagrid shouted.

"Yes sir," John responded immediately.

"Anyway — Harry," Hagrid said, turning back to the scrawny boy before him, "a happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste alright."

From inside one of Hagrid's black overcoat pockets, he removed a slightly crushed box. Inside was a birthday cake which John could see _Happy Birthday Harry_ written across the top of in green icing once Harry opened the box.

"Huh," John said. "No offense, but your parties must've been pretty small if they were all held here. I mean, not only is this place tiny, but if today's your birthday, shouldn't this place have some decorations or signs of party trash at least? Or did you just do nothing here and celebrate somewhere else?"

"We don't normally live here, and besides; I don't get birthday parties," Harry said. "I'm not allowed."

"Why the hell not?" John asked.

Harry shakily pointed at the three ugly people in the corner of the room.

"Only Dudley, that other boy, is allowed to have birthdays," he said quietly, a hint of anger in his voice.

"That's because of your filthy parents, boy," the man said. "Why, if it were up to me, you would've died right alongside them. They both got what they deserved!"

In an instant, the man was on the floor, clutching his now badly bleeding and severely broken nose.

"If I ever hear that again, then your legs will be next," John said, standing over him, blood on his fist. "I don't know what happened to his parents, but it sounds like they died, and that's not something I will ever let someone tease or joke with another about, much less use as a direct insult."

John had dashed forward, ran up the couch beside Hagrid, jumped off the back towards the man Hagrid called "Dursley" and superman punched him in the nose, breaking it when his fist connected.

"Yeh keep that up and I might yet trust a Slytherin!" Hagrid laughed out.

"Who are you two?" Harry asked as his apparently adoptive family backed further into the corner of the room.

Hagrid chuckled.

"True, we haven't introduced ourselves. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Hagrid then shook Harry's whole arm before looking expectantly at John.

"Oh, right," John said. "Johnathan Slytherin, hobby mechanic, amateur kickboxer, and possible kidnapping victim."

"Ah, hush up," Hagrid said. "Wasn't no kidnappin' involved; I was given yeh guardian's permission."

"Yeah, yeah," John said with a smile and a dismissive wave.

John sometimes surprised himself with how quickly he could cope, and this was one of those times. He felt perfectly at ease, despite recent… events. He was even making jokes.

"What about that tea then, eh?" Hagrid said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

Hagrid then noticed the fireplace (which was filled with empty, curled up chip bags), snorted, and leaned over it. He soon drew back once he was done.

 _WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!_ John's inner voice screamed.

A roaring fire had appeared where the chip bags used to be, filling the cold hut with warmth. John once again wished Hagrid hadn't blocked his view so he could've seen how he did it.

The giant leaned back on the couch, which almost touched the floor due to his weight, and began pulling out food and cooking supplies from his pockets.

Hagrid soon had the shack filled with the sounds and smells of sausage being cooked and tea being boiled.

"Awfully quiet in here…" John said as Hagrid cooked, noticing how no one spoke.

Only when Hagrid pulled out the first six, slightly burnt sausages did anyone make any sort of movement.

The fat kid (Dudley, Harry had called him) fidgeted a bit when he saw the food.

"What's wrong, fatso?" John asked Dudley with a cruel smirk. "Did you miss one of your seventeen meals yesterday? I think you'll live seeing as how you have more fat to burn then a damned hippo!"

Hagrid howled with laughter as Harry snickered. John had noticed Dudley glaring at Harry just before John had broken Dursley's nose. That indicated that Dudley had agreed with everything Dursley had said, making him public enemy number two for John, just one place behind his father.

"That, Slytherin, earned yeh my respect!" Hagrid cried out. "Come on, eat!"

Hagrid ushered John away from where he was standing in front of the frightened family and sat him right beside Harry in front of the fire.

John ate anything he could get his hands on.

"Oi!" cried Hagrid. "Calm down! Save some fer us!"

"Sorry," John said with a sheepish grin. "It was six o'clock back in Texas when you picked me up, and I haven't eaten since morning."

Hagrid nodded but sternly said, "Well, all right, but yeh don't need anymore."

John nodded.

"Good," Hagrid said before grinning from behind his mask of facial hair. "Alright, we'll be goin' shoppin' in the morning."

"Wait one second," John said, holding up his hand. "I have a few questions."

"Right, right," Hagrid said. "Yer guardian said yeh wasn't knowin' of nothin' but Muggle things."

"I still don't really know who either of you are," Harry said.

"I don't think _I_ even know who I really am anymore," John stated.

"Call me Hagrid," Hagrid said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts — yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course, Harry."

Hagrid looked at Harry expectantly.

"Er — no," said Harry.

Hagrid seemed to be completely shocked.

"Sorry," Harry quickly said.

 _"Sorry?"_ the furry giant barked, turning to stare at the ugly family, who all cowered into the shadows even further. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Harry.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

The great giant had leapt to his feet. In his anger, he seemed to fill the whole shack. The ugly family was cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the family, "that this boy — this boy — knows nothin' abou' — about ANYTHING?"

"I know _some_ things," Harry said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

Hagrid blew this off with a wave of his hand and said, "About _our_ world, I mean. _Your_ world. _My_ world. _Yer parents' world._ _His entire family's world!_ "

Hagrid gestured to John during the last part.

"What world?" Harry asked.

"Um… my family was into the oil game up," John said, "so… the gas station world?"

"My family owned a gas station?" Harry asked.

"DURSLEY!" Hagrid boomed, looking as if he were about to explode.

Dursley, who was now very pale, whispered something inaudible. Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.

"But yeh must know about yer mum and dad," he said.

"Alright, let's skip this crisis and cut to the chase," John said. "I mean, both of us clearly have no clue as to what the hell you're talking about."

"STOP! I FORBID YOU FROM TELLING HARRY A THING!" yelled Dursley in a panic.

The crane woman gasped in horror.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry, John — yer wizards."

For a moment, there was silence in the dingy little shack except for the sounds of the storm outside. Then Harry broke it.

"We're _what_?" he asked.

"Ditto," John said.

"Wizards, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, causing it to groan and sink lower, "an' thumpin' good'uns, I'd say, once yeh've both been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, Harry, and having one of the most powerful wizard names of all time like you do, John, what else would yeh both be? An' I reckon its' abou' time yeh read yer letter, Harry."

Harry reached up to take the yellowish envelope Hagrid had pulled out of one of his front pockets. It was addressed in emerald green letters to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea.

"Well they certainly did their damned homework, didn't they?" John said with smirk. "Mine was appointed to Mr. J. Slytherin, Second Largest Bedroom, Slytherin Mansion, Asphalt Driveway. I don't get why they didn't put the actual road or address. I guess the actual driveway was long enough to count and "Slytherin Mansion" must be how my house is known in the wizarding world."

Harry pulled out the letter and John read it out of his hands out loud.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmaster; Albus Dumbledore. Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards."

John looked up at Hagrid.

"What the hell is a Mugwump?" he asked.

Hagrid scowled at his language, so John went back to reading.

"Dear Mr. Potter, we are pleased to inform you that yada-yada-yada, it's the same as mine," John said. "I thought it was just some foreign term for chemistry or something with a weird supply list; you're telling me it really means witches and wizards?"

Hagrid nodded, beaming.

"THAT'S AWESOME!" John shouted excitedly.

"What does it mean, they await my owl?" Harry shakily asked.

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a horse. He then pulled out an owl from yet another pocket. Not a fake owl, no; a real, living, breathing owl. He also removed a quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth, he wrote a note that John didn't bother to read.

Hagrid rolled up the note, allowed the owl to clamp down on it with its beak, went to the front door, and tossed it out into the storm. Hagrid then sat back down as if this was an everyday occurrence and Harry shut his gaping mouth.

"Where was I?" Hagrid asked.

Suddenly, Dursley stepped into the firelight.

"He's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him," he said.

"A what?" asked Harry with obvious interest.

If he hadn't asked, John would have; he had no idea what a Muggle was, and Hagrid had used the term several times.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call non-magic folk like them. An' it's just bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

Hagrid then looked at John and said, "But yer Muggle caretaker wasn't 'alf bad. A good ol' friend of yer father's, I heard."

John felt a little guilty at that; Harry having grown up in rags while John was rolling in riches, both emotionally (at least when comparing his home life to Harry's) and financially.

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Dursley, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You _knew_?" said Harry. "You _knew_ I'm a — a wizard!"

"Knew!" shrieked the wrinkly old crane woman with the extra-long neck. " _Knew!_ Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that _school_ — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn , turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak!"

Suddenly, steaming hot tea splashed all over the crane's face, both soaking and burning her.

Everyone turned to see John standing by the fire, a very big smile on his face as he held onto the tea kettle through his shirt so as not to burn his hands.

The crane screeched and ran back to the corner, obviously hurt. The man with a broken nose tried to charge him with a roar, but he ended up kissing the stone hearth behind his target, thus knocking himself out.

John stood beside the unconscious man with a smug grin as he dropped the kettle.

"This old man is really dumb," he said. "All I had to do was dodge him. Anyways, no more insults towards or about Harry's parents, please. Thank you."

"And as for you, you old hag," John said towards the crane woman. "Yes, siblings fight and argue and maybe they can even feel like they hate each other from time-to-time; but they never betray one another like you did. You're nothing more than a wretch of a woman who's too ugly to be successful as a whore. You have no idea what it means to be a good person. You're the freak, not your sister. I've never seen someone so cruel; now shut up and stay that way."

"Did they even tell yeh how yer parents died?" Hagrid asked, suddenly looking nervous.

"They said it was a car crash," Harry said.

Hagrid looked like he was going to explode again.

"No use blowing up again, big guy, that will only keep the kid in the dark even longer about whatever it is you want to tell him," John said quickly.

Hagrid took a few breaths and nodded. Then he returned to looking nervous.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh — but someone's gotta — yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

Suddenly, John hopped up and began dragging the unconscious fat guy into the only open room (the one he believed the woman and Dursley had run out of when they first arrived). This took a while, but that was the point; this conversation was none of his business.

Once John was done, he walked out and closed the door before turning back around to see Hagrid staring at him.

"You need to hear this, too," Hagrid said. "After all, yer family was killed by the same person. I'd just forgotten that yeh didn't know, but I s'pose I should tell yeh, too, that way yeh aren't in the dark. Best to find out now before someone else tells yeh wrong."

"What?" John asked incredulously. "My family was murdered?!"

Hagrid nodded and said, "By a powerful dark wizard who was named…"

Hagrid trailed off.

"What was their name?" John asked slowly, trying not to go insane with rage.

"I don' like sayin it, no one does, but I can't spell it. Alright, I'll say it; _Voldemort_." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again."

John moved back by the fire and sat back down beside Harry.

"Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too; some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was getting himself power, all right. Dark days, you two. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him… an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of."

Hagrid then looked sadly at John.

"Even yer family, after they'd been hidin' in the states all these years, wasn't safe," he said. "They hadn't bothered him one bit, but he killed 'em all. No one knows why. Lucky yer dad hid you away, otherwise he would 'ave killed you too. Dumbledore found yeh after it was over and had yeh go into hiding with 'im fer a while."

John's hands were shaking.

"Where is this guy?" John questioned the giant. "I want to see him."

"That's just it," the giant said, "no one really knows. He disappeared after he found and killed Harry's parents. After that, Dumbledore took yeh back to yer house where yer Muggle caretaker and you would live so he could raise yeh."

Hagrid then looked over to Harry. "Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em… maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you, Harry, and yer parents was all livin', on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' — an' —"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with the sound of a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad — knew yer mum an' dad, Harry, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find — anyway… You-Know-Who killed them, too."

"He seems to have a habit of doing that," John growled.

Hagrid nodded before sadly continuing with, "An' then— an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing — he tried to kill you, too, Harry. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even — but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age — the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts, (Hagrid looked anxiously to John) the, um, Slytherins — an' you was only a baby, Harry, an' you lived."

"If that's what made Harry famous, then does that mean I'm famous, too?" John asked, trying to change the subject in order to quell his rage.

Hagrid blinked. "Well," he said, "Yer famous, but not in the same way; it's true, yeh bein' the only survivor of yer family's massacre gave yeh fame, but so did yer family name since Salazar Slytherin, yer ancestor, was one of the four founders of Hogwarts, even if he's not known for bein' a kind one. Besides, Voldemort didn't know yeh existed and yeh were secretly hidden while Harry was wide open and face to face with him since yer parents got warnin' of him but his didn't."

John nodded his head.

"I suppose that makes sense," he said while looking at the floor before popping back up and saying, "Wait, my ancestor helped found Hogwarts?"

Hagrid nodded.

"The four school houses, or teams, are named fer the four school founders," he said. "Gryffindor, meant fer the brave heroic types; Hufflepuff, meant fer the most loyal and trustworthy; Ravenclaw, fer those with good brains and such; and Slytherin, fer those who are clever and do anything to get results; those are the houses and what students are sorted into 'em fer. Slytherin was named fer Salazar Slytherin, yer ancestor."

"Load of old tosh."

John, Hagrid, and Harry all looked towards the doorway behind the couch that Hagrid was on. It was the doorway that led to the room John had dragged Dursley into. The door was once again open and the man was standing there.

"Now," he snarled, glaring towards and angrily pointing at Harry, "you listen here, boy—ooh!"

The tea pot that John had used to splash the crane woman with suddenly flew out of nowhere and hit the man square on the forehead, once again knocking him unconscious.

Everyone looked back to see John in an after-throw stance and smiling broadly.

"I know that it's probably mean that I keep doing this to him when I've only just met him," John said as he sat back down, his smile never fading, "but it just feels so damned good."

The crane woman and the fat child ran into the room, dragged the man inside as quickly as they could, then they slammed the door shut and locked it.

"That's better," said Hagrid.

"But that doesn't tell us where Vol-, sorry — I mean, You-Know-Who went," Harry said.

"Right, right," Hagrid said, taking a deep breath. "Well, Harry, same night he tried ter kill yeh, he vanished. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see… he was getting' more an' more powerful — why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don't believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done that if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on — _I_ dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at Harry with obvious warmth and respect in his eyes. John felt happy, too.

"Well, Harry," John said, offering a hand, "Even if it was some weird accident and you don't know what happened, I owe you my thanks. If that son-of-a-bitch was somehow defeated that night, then I'm glad someone else whom he hurt got to do it to him; no matter how it happened."

Harry nervously took his hand and shook it.

Harry was much smaller than John, weaker, too, if his grip was anything to go by. He was scrawny, while John was muscular. He was pale and looked a little as if he were sick (though that may have been stress) while John was well tanned and looked as if he had already reached his prime at the age of eleven. These two opposites did have something in common, however; their family's met the same end from the same man. And that was enough for John to call Harry a kindred spirit; the first one he had ever met, actually.

"But," Harry almost whispered after shaking John's hand, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

John laughed.

"I was wondering which one of us would say that first," he said. "I don't think I'm a wizard, either. I had to learn kickboxing just to fend off bullies. If I was a wizard, why would I need to do that?"

"Not wizards, eh?" Hagrid asked with a humorous glint in his black beetle eyes. "Never made things happen when either of you was scared or angry?"

John looked to the floor as he remembered a time as a child when he had scared off a group of bullies by doing nothing once they cornered him on a part of the playground that was hidden from the view of any onlookers. They had all run back to the teachers, accusing him of turning into a giant snake. It was strange, because John certainly had felt a change when he was cornered, but it had soon gone away after they had run off.

He remembered another time when he was little and had somehow convinced a rattlesnake to roll a ball back and forth with him. All he did was ask and it agreed… by saying "sure".

When John looked back up, Hagrid was smiling knowingly at both of them.

"See?" he asked. "Harry Potter and Johnathan Slytherin, not wizards — you wait; you'll be right famous at Hogwarts, both of yeh!"

Suddenly, the door to the room with the ugly family in it slammed open. In the doorway stood the man John enjoyed hurting.

"Haven't I told you he's not going?" Dursley hissed.

"You're either really stupid or really brave if you're willing to take your determination this far," John said, "because next is me breaking your legs."

Hagrid reluctantly raised a hand in a stopping gesture.

"No need fer that," he said. "Be hard to explain to the school, even without magic involved."

"You're a lucky man," John said to Dursley in the doorway.

"He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it," the man angrily continued hissing. "I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and —"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," Hagrid growled. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son going ter Hogwarts when you can't even get through a boy using Muggle fighting! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled John's punching bag.

But he had apparently gone too far for someone besides John this time. Hagrid drew the pink umbrella from within his coat and whirled it over his head as he thundered out, "NEVER — INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE — IN — FRONT — OF — ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley, who was standing behind Dursley. There was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, John was laughing and pointing at Dudley, who was dancing on the spot with his hands over his fat bottom, howling in pain. Whenever he spun around so his back faced the room with the three apparent wizards in it, John could see a pig's tail poking through a hole in his pajama bottoms, which was why he was laughing.

The fat man roared and slammed the door, once again separating the two groups.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his thick beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway, there wasn't much left ter do."

John's laughter got louder at that, but he calmed down soon enough after Hagrid sat back down.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said once John was completely done. "I'm — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh (he gestured to Harry with a nod as he said this) and ter pick you up (he gestured to John with another nod as he said this); one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job —"

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.

"Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts myself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, what the hell did you do?" John added.

"It's getting' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He pulled a large, folded up blanket out of his black coat's large side pocket before tossing it to John. He then took off his coat and tossed it to Harry.

"Yeh can both kip under those," he said. "Don' mind if the coat wriggles a bit, Harry; I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

John then realized something as the other two began to lie down.

"Wait one damned minute!" he shouted. "I'm still on Texas time! What the hell am I supposed to do while you two nap!?"

-o-

 ** _(Thanks for reading and please review. I don't expect this story to be that popular, but I can dream, right? Also, I don't have this entire story written out like I do with Uzumaki's new friend, so, eventually, the updates on this will slow down. However, I refuse to let them cease.)_**


	4. Chapter 3: Shopping Spree

**_(Thanks for reading this much! I really try and anyone who's read this far has earned my respect. I OWN NOTHING!)_**

-o-

 _"_ _DIE!" John cried as he launched himself towards a thin man with a vicious snarl on his face._

 _Strangely enough, the man seemed to have two faces; his normal one, and another pale one with slits for nostrils on the back of his head._

 _"_ _Kill them both!" cried the face on the back of the man's head._

 _"_ _Yes, master!" cried the normal face._

 _John punched and kicked the man, knowing that he was breaking bones with his shots, but it still didn't stop his enemy._

 _Suddenly, the man snapped his fingers and several ribbons formed around John and tied him up. The man raised a wand above his head, but suddenly, Harry landed on the man's back and grabbed his face, somehow causing the man's skin to seemingly boil._

-o-

John awoke curled in a dark corner of the shack. He sat up and began to meditate to calm down his racing heart with his legs folded, his hands in his lap, and his eyes closed. He was taking deep, steady breaths and listening for the sound of his own heartbeat, the image of a calm pond in his mind.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud rapping on the window.

John opened his eyes and looked to the window to see Greg, tongue out, face scrunched up, and ears wiggling.

John burst out laughing, causing Harry to bolt up and Hagrid to groan.

John stood up and opened up the door, allowing Greg to walk in with a big, goofy grin on his face and Grim on his shoulder.

"So, how was your little introduction?" he asked as Grim hopped off of him and glided over to John's shoulder.

"Awesome," John said, scratching Grim's chin. "I'm a little angry that you didn't tell me, but I blew off some steam by breaking a guy's nose, so all's forgiven."

"What?" Greg asked.

"He broke my Uncle Vernon's nose."

John turned around and saw that Harry was standing up and looking at Greg nervously.

"Hello," Greg said, walking over to the boy and offering a hand, which Harry shook. "My name is Gregory Jones, but everyone just calls me Greg. And you are…?"

"Harry Potter," Harry said, "but everyone just calls me Harry."

"Well it's good to meet you, Harry," Greg said. "Anyways, sorry for any trouble that John's caused."

"He hasn't caused any trouble at all; my uncle was the trouble," Harry defended John with a smile.

"He's the kid who got rid of Voldemort," John told Greg while pointing at Harry.

"Voldemort?" Greg asked with evident confusion.

"The guy who killed my family," John said.

"WHAT?!"

"You already knew this, didn't you?" John asked.

"NO!" Greg yelled.

"His mem'ry was erased by yer family with charms they'd had set up before Voldemort showed up," Hagrid said, his voice muffled by the couch cushion his face was on since he was lying face down. "They didn't want 'im tellin' yeh who the murderer was jus' in case yeh wanted revenge."

"Wait, are you saying Ferris and Mary erased my memory of their murder?" Greg asked incredulously.

"Yep," Hagrid said as he sat up.

When he did, Greg tossed a newspaper to him with a defeated sigh.

"I paid an owl that was outside for that with some wizard money I was given to spend when the time came," Greg said to Hagrid as the giant opened the paper to read it. "It was a preparation gift from Ferris Slytherin. Don't bother with paying it back, I still have plenty. Good thing Ferris taught me how it all worked long ago."

Hagrid nodded before noticing the bird on John's right shoulder.

"Blimey, where'd yeh get one of those?!" he cried.

"What, Grim?" John asked. "He was left on our doorstep as a hatchling years ago. Now that I think about it, he was probably a gift from a wizard who knew about me."

"Doubt the wizard was a very good 'un, then," Hagrid said, eyeing the bird. "A crow owl is what he is. Said ter be cursed, but it's a bunch of hogwash, it is; they're just rare and eat almost anything. Whoever gave it to yeh was prob'ly trying ter curse yeh 'cause of yer name. Lot's 'o bad prophecies told about the Slytherin heir. Especially in regards ter Hogwarts. But that doesn't matter, 'cause those birds 'ave magic in their blood that makes 'em the perfect messenger owls."

John blinked. "There are bad prophecies about me?"

Hagrid slowly nodded. John grinned.

"Good," he said, "I love proving people wrong."

"You're definitely your father's son," Greg said shaking his head with a smile and tossing Hagrid a golden key. "He won't cause any real trouble unless you try to feed him raw liver and pigs feet; they're the only two foods he won't eat. If that happens, make sure you watch your back; he's a spiteful one."

-o-

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

Harry, John, and Hagrid were standing in front of a newly opened wall, but John hadn't even noticed when it opened.

"About time," he said, staring back at the crowd behind him while Grim seemed to be hissing at them from where he sat on top of John's head. "I'm sick of people looking at me like I'm gonna bite their heads off while they shake Harry's hand."

John thought of the stammering man wearing a turban that had greeted Harry and then retreated from John. He could swear that that was the man from his dream.

John then smiled at Harry and said, "But I'm not mad at you; just the general public of the wizarding world."

John didn't want to share his dream. It would probably look bad if he started accusing random wizards of being evil based solely on his dreams.

Harry nodded dumbly as he was looking through the now open wall into a shopping district. John started smiling when he saw what Harry was staring at for himself.

"Amazing," he said as he and his two companions stepped through the archway and into the alley.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons — All Sizes — Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver — Self-Stirring — Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yep, you'll both be needin' one each," Hagrid said to the two boys. John didn't hear anything else of what Hagrid was saying because a group of witches nearby began murmuring a little too loudly while staring at them.

"The heir of Slytherin and the Potter boy together; makes you worry that there might be another betrayal in this generation."

"Bet he's a parceltongued Dark wizard by his second year."

"Why on earth would they even bring his blood back to England after all those stories about the Chamber of Secrets, let alone open up the school to him?"

"He was only allowed in because Salazar Slytherin helped start the school."

"Before leaving it behind with a trail of threats, that is."

"He might not know how to open it since his family was killed when he was a baby."

"I'll bet they told that Muggle how to do it, and he probably passed it down to him."

"Filthy snake-speakers."

"Just look at that bird he's got with him and you'll know he's a Dark wizard."

Hagrid looked a little red in the face with embarrassment when John turned towards him.

"Let me guess," John said, his arms crossed, Grim angrily hooting, "you were saying those same things not two days ago?"

Hagrid started twiddling his thumbs.

"Well, yeh see," he began, "the name Slytherin isn't loved. Even the Slytherin house at Hogwarts is known for producing dark Wizards. The only real good 'un I can name off the top o' me head would be Merlin himself."

"Merlin?" John asked. "As in the legendary wizarding friend of King Arthur?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Hagrid said. "Went to Hogwarts back in the medieval era."

"Huh," John said. "Well, maybe I won't get sorted into Slytherin."

"For yer sake, I hope yeh don't," Hagrid responded. "I'd hate to see yeh be the only truly good Slytherin family member in England since yer grandfather and still not be trusted."

John knew that his grandfather had moved from America to England for a while before his Dad was born (it was all in the partially burnt family journal John had found hidden in the attic) but after John's father was born, he moved back to Texas.

What John didn't know was why his family was hidden for so long.

-o-

"How did my family make it to Texas?" John asked.

Currently, they were waiting on the goblin named Griphook to open a locker that they needed access to.

"Dunno," Hagrid answered, getting over the queasiness caused by the ride down into the vaults momentarily. "Everyone lost track of 'em after Salazar left Hogwarts until yer grandfather's time, and even then, he never told anyone where the rest of yeh were.

"Wasn't till yer father's time anyone found out. Voldemort found out where yer family was and after that, yer dad let everyone know where yer family was and he even sent Dumbledore a message askin' him to let yeh into Hogwarts when yeh came of age; course no one but Dumbledore himself knew 'bout you specifically. He stated the address and let Dumbledore know his family was "makin' its presence felt one last time". His final written words and the address went public. You didn't"

Soon, Harry had a bag full of wizard's money and a big smile, indicating that the group was done here.

"Did they?" John asked before he got on the cart that was meant to take them along the underground tracks to whichever vault that they needed to get to.

"What?" Hagrid asked as he stepped into the cart.

"Did they "make their presence felt"?" John explained. "Did they go down fighting?"

Hagrid nodded with a grim look as he helped Harry in.

"Definitely," he said. "There were a lot of bodies at yer house, but more 'an half of 'em were followers of You-Know-Who. They probably helped him attack the place but got killed by yer family in the process. There really was a lot of 'em. I saw the place before it got cleaned up with me own eyes."

John grabbed Grim off his head so that he could hold onto him better, nodded, and remained silent as the cart took off. He was happy that his family went down fighting.

 _Looks like being a Slytherin grants me distrust, but who cares? I'm proud of how my family went down._

After about fifteen minutes of riding the cart through the Gringotts tunnels, they finally came to a stop in front of a large wall with the image of a green serpent on it. Everyone piled out and stared at it.

"Stand back," Griphook said. "This is one of our most secure safes. It was built specifically for the Slytherin family after they came out of hiding about eleven years ago. Took a bit o' trouble to transport all their gold here, but we pulled it off before… well, you know the rest."

"Remember," Hagrid said as the goblin gave the wall a series of taps in specific places with specific timing and then stuck the golden key Greg had given Hagrid into an invisible keyhole, "yeh need ter get the gold ones, the silver ones, _and_ the bronze ones just ter be safe."

John nodded then allowed his mouth to drop open when the wall shimmered and disappeared, revealing the contents of the safe.

"Whoa," John said numbly. "And I thought I was rich in Muggle money."

There was so much gold that John couldn't see the floor. The safe was the size of a military base and went further to the sides or back than he could see. there were a few piles of silver and bronze here and there, but the vast majority was gold.

"Uh, how deep is this?" John asked.

"Don't know the exact depth," Griphook said, "but the measurements we took before filling it up said it was about twenty miles."

"HOW?!" John shouted.

"Calm down, boy," Griphook said. "Salazar Slytherin himself was already rich _before_ he was your age. Your family has lived outside of the wizarding world, somehow earning money but never using it, for several hundred years now. It's only right you would end up as one of the richest wizards in existence."

"I'm buying Hogwarts," John said quietly. "I'm buying all of it."

"You say something?" Hagrid asked curiously, not having heard John.

"Nothing. Let's get some money and get out of here," John said quickly.

Not long after that, John, Harry, and Hagrid were walking out of Gringotts, both Harry and John curious about the package Hagrid had received on behalf of Hogwarts.

"Why can't you tell us?" John asked.

Grim hooted in relief as they left the bank. John knew he hated being underground. He then climbed up John, out of his arms, onto his shoulder, and onto his head.

"It's Hogwarts business, I tell yeh!" Hagrid almost shouted. "It's top secret, so no more questions!"

"Take us shopping for supplies, then," Harry said quickly. "I want to see what wizard shops have to sell."

"You'll definitely see, I guarantee that," Hagrid said, a gleam in his eyes.

"Well let's make sure we don't have too many more stops because I feel like we've been jumping around too much and it's starting to annoy me," John said. Grim hooted in agreement.

-o-

"I'm happy to finally see all this," John said, "but for some reason, I just suddenly became more annoyed."

"I don't get why," Harry responded.

"I don't either," John said. Grim closed his eyes and hooted miserably from on top of John's head.

The two young wizards were standing outside of Madam Malkin's, a shop that had all of the robes they would need for Hogwarts.

When they walked in, they met Madam Malkin, a squat, smiling witch dressed in all mauve.

"Hogwarts, boys?" the woman asked. "Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length before a third witch began to do the same to John, careful to avoid Grim once she spotted him.

"Hello," said the boy to Harry and John, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry as John nodded.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

John thought this kid seemed to be a bit of an ass. Grim began making a noise that sounded a lot like an angry chicken.

"Have _you_ got your own broom?" the boy went on, eying Grim but saying nothing.

"No," Harry said.

"Same here," John added.

" _I_ do — Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry again.

"I don't know for sure, but so far, I'm hearing a lot of Slytherin," John said.

"Really? Well then, we'll likely be getting to know each other soon enough. No one really knows until they get there, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff; I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry as John looked around for a good distraction.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and John and pointing at the three large ice cream cones he was holding in one hand to show he couldn't enter.

"That's Hagrid," Harry said.

"Yeah, he's the gamekeeper at Hogwarts," John said. "Right now he's taking us shopping for school supplies.

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant."

" _Gamekeeper_ ," John and Harry corrected together as Grim hooted, seeming as if he was trying to say it with them.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of _savage_ —"

"You heard wrong," John cut in. Once again, Grim began making his angry chicken noise.

"We think he's brilliant," Harry added.

" _Do_ you?" the boy asked with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you two? Where are your parents?"

"Dead," Harry and John said at the same time. Grim hissed.

"Oh, sorry," the boy said in a way that made John want to snap his neck, which wouldn't actually be that hard. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

"My parents were both magical, if that's what you mean," Harry said.

"And so were mine," John said. He had at least been able to confirm that with Greg before the wizard who had brought him to the island had to take him back to Texas.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same; they've never been brought up to know our ways."

"Neither were we," John said.

"What?" the boy asked.

"My friend and I were raised in the world of Muggles," John explained. "We didn't know magic was real until last night because my guardian had specific instructions from my parents not to let me know until I was old enough to go to school and my friend here lived with terrible Muggle people who wanted to prevent him from ever learning about magic at all."

"Why would your parents ask for that?"

"I don't know, something about keeping me from getting a swollen head," John said. Hagrid had said that he wasn't told about that because his family was worried that he might have let the power go to his head and abuse it since his guardian was a simple Muggle. John had to agree knowing that he would have had a hard time learning morals if he was busy trying to find ways to magically get back at Greg when he was little.

"Then how did you get that crow owl without knowing about magic?" the boy asked while pointing at the bird on John's head.

"Grim was left on my doorstep as a hatchling," John answered. "I never knew what type of owl he was until just recently."

"Huh," the boy said, seemingly perplexed; that is, until he noticed something. "Say, you sound American!"

"Yeah, I'm from Texas," John said, wondering where this was leading to.

"Why is an American going to Hogwarts instead of an American wizarding school?"

"Special circumstances," John said. Truth be told, he hadn't been aware that there _were_ any American wizarding schools, though he guessed that it was only logical. After all, there must be wizards everywhere around the world, so there would most likely be schools all around the world to teach them.

"Special circumstances, huh? I suppose that's fair."

Suddenly, Madam Malkin said, "That's you two done, dearies," to Harry and John.

"Say, what are you two's full names?" the boy asked as they stepped back off of their stools and began walking out. "Mine's Draco Malfoy."

John stopped at the doorway of the shop and held Harry with him by the back of his shirt.

"I'm John Slytherin and this is Harry Potter. Nice to meet you; bye!" And with that, John and Harry ducked out of the shop, leaving young Draco to gawk at the doorway in shock.

John and Harry both started laughing as soon as they walked out of the boy's sight. Even Grim started hooting in what sounded like hysteria.

"Did you see his face?!" John asked through his laughter.

"That was brilliant," Harry complemented while his laughter died down.

"What're you two on about?" Hagrid asked.

"Nothing," John said as Hagrid handed him a vanilla ice cream cone.

Hagrid took them to buy parchment and quills next, and after they got out of the shop, Harry spoke up.

"Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, you two, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know — not knowin' about Quidditch?"

"Don't make me feel worse," said Harry. He told Hagrid about the meeting with Draco Malfoy in Madam Malkin's.

"—and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't be allowed in—"

"Yer not _from_ a Muggle family. Neither of yeh. If he'd known who you two _were_ —"

"I think he figured it out," John said with a smirk. "I _may_ have let it slip a little."

"What did yeh do?" Hagrid asked sternly.

"Nothing," John responded. "Well, except make him feel like an idiot after he asked our names. He thought he was so much better than us, the great "Draco Malfoy" looking like a scared deer after he realized whom he was talking to."

Hagrid shook his head and said, "Yeh shouldn't mess with the Malfoy family. They're a nasty bunch. All of 'em are Slytherins."

John gave Hagrid a look.

"I mean they're all back stabbers," Hagrid said quickly. "And back stabbers are almost exclusively in Slytherin; it's the closest Hogwarts has got to an evil house. But not all of 'em are that way, mind you! It's just that almost every wizard who ever turned bad from Hogwarts was a Slytherin."

"Yeah, I definitely feel better now," John said sarcastically, not really caring anymore.

"So what _is_ Quidditch?" Harry asked again.

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like — like football, or soccer to you John, in the Muggle world; everyone follows Quidditch — played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls — sorta hard ter explain the rules."

Harry and John soon got their school books at some shop named Flourish and Blotts where shelves were stacked to the ceiling with huge books bound in leather; books that were small enough to have a postage stamp as a cover bound in silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from _Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"Vindictus?" John asked. "As in vindictive? That's amazing."

"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley," Harry said somberly.

"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

Soon enough, all the shopping for potions ingredients, books, and cauldrons was over and only one thing was left.

"Just yer wands left — oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present, Harry, not to mention yer birthday was only a week ago, John, so I should get yeh somethin' too now that I know yeh aren't 'alf bad."

Both Harry and John went red.

"You don't have to—" Harry began.

"I know I don't have to," Hagrid cut in. "Tell yeh what; I'll get both yer animals. Not toads, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'll both get laughed at — 'an I don' like cats; they make me sneeze. I'll get owls fer yeh both. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful; carry yer mail an' everthin'."

"Um, I already have a pet owl," John said, pointing at the creature on his head which was now puffing his feathers out once he thought he was being replaced.

Hagrid slapped his forehead.

"Blimey, I'd forgot!" he shouted. "You even got the best kind; a crow owl is born knowin' how to be a carrier owl. They can get any package anywhere and in 'alf the time as what other owls would. Tell yeh what, John; I'll get yeh somethin' else soon enough. Fer now, let's get you an owl Harry."

Soon enough, Harry had a female snowy owl that Grim kept ogling.

"Grim, pal, you have got to wake up," John said, tapping Grim's foot to try and get him to stop staring at the white owl. "If you don't, you'll fall off."

Grim wasn't paying attention; he was too busy being infatuated with Harry's owl (Hedwig, he had named her) who, in turn, was busy ignoring him and tucking her head under her wing for her to sleep.

John, Harry, and Hagrid all laughed a little at the crestfallen look on the crow owl's face.

"Poor fella's just lookin' fer love," Hagrid said. "Ah, well; next is yer wands!"

-o-

"I still feel like we're jumping around too much," John said as he looked at the storefront.

"Well, this is a shopping trip," Harry said.

"I know," John groaned.

"HOOOOO!"

Grim was whining at the door of Hedwig's cage while the white owl ignored him and tried (and failed) to nap.

"Let her sleep, Grim," John said. "You can talk, er, hoot to her later at Hogwarts."

Grim hopped up to John's left shoulder and stayed there with a sad look in his eyes. Hedwig looked relieved and started snoozing again.

"Ollivanders: makers of fine wands since three-eighty-two B.C.," John read off of the peeling gold letters on the front door. "Why do I believe it?"

The three walked into the shabby and narrow shop with a wand on a faded purple cushion in the window.

A bell rang as they entered and Grim hooted back at it. The place was small and empty near the doorway except for a single chair which was soon occupied by Hagrid. The shop felt a bit like a library so John remained silent as he looked at the walls piled high with neatly stacked narrow boxes. He whistled quietly.

"Are all of those wands?" he asked quietly.

"Why, indeed they are, young man," a soft voice said from behind John.

Harry, John, and Hagrid all jumped. John heard a crunch and saw Hagrid stand out of the corner of his eye as they all turned to face the owner of the voice.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop as he stared down John, who had spun around and taken on a fighting stance out of reaction.

"Hello," Harry said.

The man turned to face Harry with a slight smile as John fell out of his fighting stance and regained his normal posture.

"Ah yes," he said. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It obviously wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems like only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander (John figured that that was who he was) moved closer to Harry. John thought he looked a bit creepy with his silver stare.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it — it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose, which definitely rated as a ten on John's creep-o-meter.

"And that's where…"

Mr. Ollivander brushed aside Harry's bangs and touched a lightning shaped scar on the boy's forehead. John's eyes widened a little at the strange scar, not having noticed it before. He had heard Hagrid mention it, but he hadn't really taken a good look for himself. It really was strange scar, obviously not acquired by normal means.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

"Wait, so that scar really was given to him by Voldemort?" John asked.

Ollivander cringed a little at the name but nodded his head and then noticed Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again… Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er — yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't _use_ them?" said Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. John saw his grip tighten on his pink umbrella by a great deal as he spoke.

 _Found his wand_ , John thought, keeping all traces of his suspicion hidden from his face.

"And finally," Ollivander turned to John, "you."

"Well don't sound too excited," John said sarcastically.

"My apologies, my boy, I didn't mean to sound unhappy," Ollivander said, "but I knew your grandfather and I was just noticing all of the similarities you shared with him, such as his eyes and hair. He stopped by here on his exploration of the magical world. Trying to see how much it had changed since his family went into hiding, he was. Surprisingly, he already had a wand. He said that his younger sibling, Finnegan Slytherin, had made it for him. He said that his family always had at least one wand maker in each generation. Quite surprising, really."

"How so?" John asked.

"Normally, wand makers such as myself are hard to come by. For you to have so many in your family would most definitely be an impressive record… if only we could have checked just how many there had been."

John began to shift uneasily. He didn't really like something about the way Ollivander spoke about his family. It just felt so… depressing.

"Well now, boys; let me see…" Ollivander removed a tape measure with silver markings. "Which are your wand arms?"

"Er — well, I'm right handed," said Harry.

"And I'm left," John said, holding out his left arm, hoping that that was how wands worked as well. Harry did the same with his right.

Ollivander measured Harry in all sorts of ways before doing the same with John. As he did this, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter and Mr. Slytherin. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

At this point, the tape measure was going on by itself as Ollivander searched the shelves of wands.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beech-wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave. I will give you one to try in just a moment, Mr. Slytherin."

But John looked down the shelves past Ollivander and noticed a dark green box. It seemed to be calling to him… literally.

 _Come to me. Let us join together. I will help you, worthy one._

John could hear a kind of hissing voice coming from the box. He walked past Ollivander, surprising both him and Harry as they tried a maple and phoenix feather wand that was seven inches long and "whippy"."

"Mr. Slytherin, I must ask that you not go through the wands on your own," Mr. Ollivander called with a hint of worry as John walked on.

He didn't listen.

 _We will fight as one._

"Where are you going?" Ollivander asked. "Please don't touch anything."

John got closer to his quarry. Only a few yards now.

 _You will be my master._

"Wait! Don't go down there!"

John was now within feet of his target, reaching his hand towards the green box.

 _A worthy master…_

Ollivander could be heard tearing down the aisle as John pulled out the box and gently removed the lid. The young wizard gasped.

Inside was a black wand made from what looked like small, jet black snake scales. It was about thirteen inches long and at the bottom of the handle was a design that looked like a snake's head, but it was like no snake John had ever seen. The eye sockets were empty, but they still seemed to gleam at him.

John cold feel power in it as he pulled it out of the box.

 _Master…_

The wand was cold, which kept John's hand from getting sweaty, and the handle fit perfectly within John's hand. It felt very solid, as if made from metal. John doubted he could easily break it on accident.

"I-I don't believe it…"

John turned around and saw Mr. Ollivander with his silvery eyes the size of golf balls.

"I-it fits you…" he murmured. "But how?"

John quickly put the wand back in its box out of nervousness. He knew he had done something terribly wrong.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cause trouble," John quickly said.

"No, don't put it up," Ollivander told him with a raised hand. "You are only the second person ever seen to be able to fit a basilisk wand. It's yours."

"What?!" John cried.

"A basilisk wand is made from all the importan' stuff of a basilisk," Hagrid said, stepping up from behind Mr. Ollivander. "The scales are broken down and magically used as the coatin'. The fang is used as the material. The venom and blood are both poured into ev'ry layer. And the eyes are used as the core."

"What is a basilisk?" John asked. "Because you're obviously not talking about the water running lizard."

Hagrid shook his head. "No, it's a snake. A giant snake imbued with Dark magic."

Ollivander nodded. "That wand is one of only two known basilisk wands in existence right now, the other one being buried with its wielder. I made this one so many years ago when a young wizard sold me the pieces at a fair price. Said he'd killed one during his journeys that had been killing people. The basilisk is so powerful that it kills you by simply looking you in the eye. That's why you'll hardly ever find those wands; the parts are too rare because of how hard the basilisk is to kill, not to mention the fact that the basilisk itself is rare as well. And, of course, the wands made from them have been labeled as evil by the general public since the basilisk is so laden with Dark magic, though I don't believe that that is the case with the wands."

"I think we'd better go get Harry's wand next, Mr. Ollivander," Hagrid said. "I'll pay fer John's since I owe him a birthday gift.

Ollivander nodded his head while still looking incredulously at John. "Yes, of course, Rubeus," he said. "I think I know a wand that will serve him well, anyways. A very strong wand indeed…"

-o-

John and Harry both ate in silence. Not only had John received an 'evil wand', but Harry had received the brother wand of Voldemort, whom Ollivander chose to compare Harry to by saying that like him, "great things" would be expected of Harry.

"Well, it'll be a miracle if I don't become Voldemort reincarnate," John said quietly. "Evil name, evil pet, evil wand… Hagrid, can I have an evil hat? Or evil robes?"

Harry laughed a little at that.

"I's not a bright idea ter be makin' jokes abou' that kinda stuff," Hagrid said quietly.

John took another bite out of his burger before smiling and saying, "Killing problems with humor is often a good way to figure out how to solve them."

About two hours later, the three wizards were on a train to London, from where Hagrid would return both Harry and John to their homes.

-o-

 ** _(Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know that my work is questionable, but at least it has decent grammar and spelling, especially for someone like me who doesn't trust anyone to be a beta reader for my precious work. My precious...)_**


	5. Chapter 4: Making Enemies

**_(AND WE'RE BACK! I enjoy this story. I know it seems as if I barely tried on here, but I did. I was hoping to help my own wording and writing style when I made this. I had this theory that if I followed along with the story then I could learn something about plot development. Through this theory, I discovered something; half-asleep brain + desperation for improving my original stories = stupid ideas. Oh well. I started it, might as well finish it. I hate leaving things only half done or even less. So let's finish this multi-chaptered turd. I OWN NOTHING!)_**

-o-

"Nice train," John said as he sat in an empty train compartment. Hagrid had come and got him from his place in Texas and led him through the barrier and onto the train before helping him get his things situated. He then left, saying he would need to go and get the Hogwarts greeting ready.

Soon enough, Harry came into the compartment with his things.

"Hi Harry!" John said. He had been a bit lonely since Hagrid had left and he was glad to see that someone was in the same boat as him.

"Hi John," Harry said with a smile. The two shook hands before John helped Harry get his things put away.

Soon enough, and after a bit of small talk, the train began moving. John was excited but nervous. He didn't make friends easily as he didn't have a single one in Texas. Harry was the closest thing he had to a friend, so he was glad to see that he would be taking the trip to school with him, but John still had no idea as to what lied ahead.

The door of the compartment soon slid open to reveal a boy who was almost as tall as John and looked to be their age with orange hair, a long nose, and lots of freckles. John noticed some smudged dirt on his nose.

"Anyone sitting there?" Ron asked, pointing to a seat next to John. "Everywhere else is full."

"No," said John. "Have a seat; we could use someone around who actually knows what they're doing."

Ron smiled and sat down.

"My name's Ron Weasley," the boy said, "What's yours?"

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry answered.

"Really?!" the orange haired boy shouted. "H-have you got the scar?"

Harry smiled and pushed aside his bangs, showing off the lightning scar.

"Wow," Ron said before turning to John. "So then, who are you?"

"I'm Johnathan Slytherin," John said, "but you can call me John."

Ron's eyes bugged out. "Y-y-you're J-Johnathan Slytherin?"

John laughed.

"So it's true," he said with a smile, "I am famous! Relax; I'm just an ordinary kid, same as Harry. I'm sure we're nothing extraordinary, right Harry?"

"Right," Harry responded.

John immediately noticed that Ron was reaching for his wand.

"How do I know you're not evil?" Ron asked.

"He's not," Harry assured. "He helped me and I trust him."

John smiled at the praise as Ron relaxed a little.

"All right," Ron said. "But I'll be keeping an eye on you!"

The cabin was silent for a moment before Ron spoke up again.

"Hey, I heard you both lived with Muggles; what was it like?"

"Horrible," Harry responded. "My aunt, uncle, and cousin are all terrible people."

"My life was pretty nice, actually," John said. "I live with my godfather and he's a really nice guy. He even taught me kickboxing."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"Kickboxing? It's a style of martial arts, which is kind of like a fighting art, thought, to be honest, they're much more than that. There are several different styles and they each require rigorous physical training. Masters of it can even make fist fighting look like a dance. I got kickboxing, which is more or less a straight forward style."

"It sounds awesome," Ron said with a look of awe.

"It feels awesome," John said. "But it's also dangerous. If I ever took a fist fight too far, I could accidentally kill someone. That's why I had to learn self-control."

Ron nodded.

"Maybe you could teach me?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe," John said. "It all depends on whether or not we become friends, and whether or not you're willing to punch a jerk in the face, because that's a bit of a requirement for me."

Ron smiled. "I think we're going to get along splendidly," he said.

"So, you have three brothers and a sister, Ron?" Harry asked. "I saw you all on the platform."

"Five brothers and a sister," Ron said, suddenly gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George, the twins, mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless; he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff— I-I mean…"

John stared at Ron a moment before he said, "It's okay if they couldn't afford it. Not everyone is born rich. I just got lucky with my money, though I don't use it on much besides food. Money can spoil people and change them for the worst."

John thought for a moment. He could tell that Ron was telling the truth and that he was a good person. He got an idea.

John pulled out the three stuffed bags of money he was carrying (there had been quite a bit that Greg had been hiding underneath a floorboard along with the bag he had gotten from his vault) and gave one of them to Ron.

"Keep this, but don't go spending it all, because I'm no bank. I don't want it to spoil you, so I won't be giving you anymore. And don't tell anyone, because I'm not about to do this with anyone else, either."

Ron stared wide eyed as he opened up the large bag and saw the gold stuffed inside.

"Whoa! I've never even seen this much before!" He then looked up at John timidly. "Are you serious? I can have this? Are you sure?"

John nodded. "I literally have more money than what I know what to do with. I could never spend it all even if I tried for the rest of my life, but I don't plan on floundering it, either; this is a one-time thing, got it?"

Ron nodded. Harry then went on to assure Ron that there was nothing wrong with not being able to afford an owl. He told Ron how he always got hand-me-downs from his cousin because he wasn't allowed anything of his own and that he only recently received money of his own and that was right after he found out about magic.

"…and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort—"

Ron gasped.

"Are you kidding me?" John asked. "Why are you scared of his name? Being scared of him is one thing, but his name? Watch this; Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort. See? Not a damned sign of him."

"Are you crazy?!" Ron questioned.

"A little," John admitted.

"You're not supposed to say his name!" Ron said.

"Sorry," said Harry. "Like I said, I'm new to this."

"And so am I, but I'm still gonna call him Voldemort," John said.

"Stop saying it!" Ron cried.

John smiled at him and slowly said, with all the delight he could muster from Ron's reaction, "Vol-de-mort."

"Oi," Ron said, giving up.

"I love fuckin' with people's heads," John said with a smile.

"You don't hold your tongue very well, do you?" Harry asked.

"It says nothing in the bible about cursing, so I'm gonna curse," John said. "And you wanna know why? It's because I don't give a flying rat's ass about society's rules of being polite!"

Harry grinned a bit as Ron looked like he was about to pass out.

"Please don't ever tell my mum you know me," he said.

"You just gave me your weakness, Ron," John said with an evil grin.

Ron moaned.

Soon, the sweets cart came by. John and Harry bought half of everything on the cart and split the price. Harry insisted on helping to pay despite John saying he should since he still had two bags of money.

Harry and John tore into the sweets.

"Hungry, are we?" Ron asked.

"Starving," the Harry and John said in unison.

Ron stared longingly at the sweets. A flattened sandwich was in his hands.

"Go ahead, Ron," Harry said.

"Yeah, dig in," John added. "You don't think we're going to eat all this sugar by ourselves, do you?"

Ron smiled and joined them, forgetting his sandwich. John snatched it and devoured it in an instant.

Harry soon opened a chocolate frog. The boxes they came in apparently contained wizard cards, which seemed to John to just be sports cards of famous wizards and witches.

"…I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy," Ron finished after a short explanation of wizard cards.

Harry held up a card and John went to stand beside him so he could see it too. A picture of a man with half-moon glasses, a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache was on the card. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" said Harry.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron, taking a frog for himself.

"Not until Hagrid mentioned him to us, no, we hadn't," John said before reading the card aloud after Harry had flipped it over. "And I quote; "Albus Dumbledore, currently headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling." Neat."

After a while, a girl opened the compartment door. She had lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." She had a bossy sort of voice.

"No, sorry," John said. Suddenly, something landed on his head and croaked. "Well, I don't see it, but I still think I found it."

John picked the toad off his head and began to pet it, much to the toad's delight.

"Well, look at this thing," he said with a laugh at the toad's pleasured croaks. "It's cute when it's comfortable."

"Yes, well, I should really get him back to his owner," the girl said.

"Of course; here you go." John gently handed the girl the toad. "Say, what's your name?"

"I am Hermione Granger," the girl responded. "And you three are?"

"I'm John Slytherin," John answered.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry stated.

"And I'm Ron Weasley," Ron added.

"So you two are the famous ones!" Hermione said as her eyes widened a bit. "Well, I must say, I'm glad I can tell the others that I've met you both. Unfortunately, I must go bring Neville his toad. Good day."

And she left.

"So, Ron," John said, sitting back down beside the orange haired boy, "what houses are your brothers in?"

"Gryffindor, all of 'em," Ron said. He once again looked gloomy. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

Ron then seemed to realize his mistake.

"Yes, I couldn't imagine how horrible that would be," John said sarcastically with a slight smile.

"S-sorry," Ron said.

"It's fine. I actually kind of hope I'm not in it myself. It may be named after my ancestor, but I'm not exactly keen on the idea of going into the house that produces the most Dark wizards. I've heard nothing but bad rumors about that house."

Ron looked a little less worried at this. "You know," he said at last, "You don't seem like you'd fit well in the house of Slytherin."

"I don't know about that," John said. "I read up on the houses after I got my books and I found that I do have a lot of their qualities. I like getting results, and as long as I don't kill or hurt anyone, I don't care how I do it. I also don't really follow rules and I do have a bit of an affiliation for trickery."

"Well," Ron said, "You'll be the first decent Slytherin I've ever met."

John smiled. "Thanks for the support."

"So, what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you two get that with the Muggles — someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry and John both stared.

"Really?" Harry asked. "What happened to them?"

"I'll bet they regretted it," John said, remembering the bank. Hagrid had said it was rumored to have dragons and several thousand enchantments.

"No, they never got caught!" Ron cried, surprising the other two. "My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get 'round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

"Voldemort," John corrected. "If you keep being scared of his name, he'll always have the power of fear hanging over you no matter what."

Ron shuddered a little.

"What're your Quidditch teams?" he suddenly asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.

"I don't know any and I doubt Harry does either since we've only just heard of Quidditch a month ago and neither of us have had access to it while living with Muggles," John said. "Am I right or wrong, Harry?"

"Right," Harry admitted.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world —" Ron immediately proceeded with explaining the game, but John wasn't interested. He didn't really have an interest in sports besides UFC.

Suddenly, as Ron began to explain the finer points of the game, the compartment door slid open again.

Three boys entered, and John recognized the middle one at once; it was the pale boy from the robe shop named Draco Malfoy. He was looking at John and Harry with great interest.

"So we've finally found you," Draco said, "John Slytherin and Harry Potter. It took us a while, but luckily, that bossy know-it-all told us where to find you."

 _I'm going to kill him_ , thought John as he put on a cheerful smile, not at all liking Draco's attitude.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

John took in the other two boys. Both of them were thickset and mean-looking, but John could tell that they weren't much of a threat to him. They moved around awkwardly and kept bumping into each other. John only took this all in because of how they seemed to be guarding Draco.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said, noticing that both Harry and John were looking at them.

"Don't talk much, do they?" John asked. Crabbe suddenly moved forward, but John jumped up, caught him by the throat, and began squeezing, cutting off the oxygen.

"Hey, now," John said. "I wasn't trying to start a fight or insult you, so calm down."

He let Crabbe go, allowing him to move back to his place while rubbing his throat. All the while, John had not dropped his smile since the three boys had entered and he could tell that it was starting to unsettle them.

"Sorry about that," Draco said, cautiously looking John up and down. "Crabbe doesn't think much."

"No harm done," John said.

"Anyways, in case you don't remember from the shop, my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

John found it strange that he introduced himself by his last name. He shrugged it off and supposed that that meant the kid wanted to be addressed as "Malfoy" instead of "Draco".

Ron gave a slight cough and John knew he was using it to cover up a snicker.

Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me that all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

"Did your father also tell you about the _extremely_ brutal ass-kicking you'll get if you keep insulting our new friend here?" John asked, his cheerful smile never fading.

"Sorry," Malfoy said, looking back at John with a slight sneer, "but you'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you both there."

Malfoy held out his hand to John, who didn't take it.

"Malfoy, I'm afraid that I've already made friends with Ron here. Now, I don't wish to fight, but if you claim to be better than others because of your name or for any other reason, then I'll show you _my_ magic. I call it pain."

Malfoy sneered even more and offered his hand to Harry. He didn't take it either.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Malfoy's face gained a pink tinge.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They—"

Malfoy never finished his sentence.

"MY NOSE!" screamed the pale boy as he rolled around on the floor, clutching his broken nose. John's smile was brighter than ever and his left hand had blood on it that wasn't his.

Crabbe and Goyle charged him, but he grabbed the shelves above the seats and held himself up as he planted strong kicks on each of their chests, sending them into the hall. He then charged out and began placing kicks and punches all over their bodies, not giving them time to counter, until they were both on the floor, wailing in pain.

John went back in, grabbed Malfoy's hair, and dragged him into the hall.

"Go see a doctor or something about that nose, half pint," John said before going back into their compartment and slamming the door, only then letting his smile fade.

"THAT WAS BLOODY BRILLIANT!" Ron shouted.

"That was fantastic," Harry said excitedly, "You have got to show me how to do that to Dudley!"

"What has been going on?"

The trio turned to see Hermione Granger in the doorway. Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco could all be heard running down the hall, still sobbing and screaming.

"Sorry about that," John said, "but those boys began insulting Harry's deceased parents and I couldn't allow it to continue. May I help you with anything else?"

"You'd better put your robes on," she said, eying John. "The conductor just told me we're nearly there. And try not to fight anymore or else you'll be in trouble before we get there!"

"No we won't," John said. "That boy will never admit that he and his goons were beaten up by a single boy. He'll probably say he fell or something."

Hermione turned her nose up and stormed off.

Soon enough, the boys had changed and the train had stopped. They grabbed the last of the sweets and rushed to get off with everyone else. As they came out of the compartment, they saw an older student tapping Malfoy on the nose with his wand. This immediately healed him and stopped the bleeding.

As they finally stepped off the train, John felt his adrenaline pumping with nervousness.

 _Don't panic_ , he thought, _don't panic…_

John turned around and saw that Harry and Ron both looked pale as they stood nervously shifting behind him.

"You guys nervous, too?" John asked with a half-hearted, nervous grin.

The boys nodded.

"Well then, we might as well get this over with," John said, turning back around. "Let's go."

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry? You too, John?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

John gave him a thumbs-up and he nodded before going back to shouting.

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was dark on either side of them and nobody spoke much. Neville's toad croaked every now and then.

"Yeh'll get yer first sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"Awesome," John said quietly.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron got into a boat, but Hermione and Neville hopped in with them before John could join them.

"Sorry," Ron said, glaring at the two who had taken John's spot.

"It's fine. See you guys at the school," John said, seeing another boat with one spot left.

John walked over and stepped into the boat, much to the displeasure of its inhabitants; Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle sat on one bench while Malfoy and John sat on another.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then — FORWARD!"

As the boats started moving, John started singing.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Throw the children overboard and listen to them scream."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all looked at John apprehensively. He looked back at him, his friendly smile plastered back onto his face.

"Hello, children," John said. "Tell me; can you swim?"

Suddenly, a dark shadow jumped from the boat beside them and landed on John's lap before croaking. John realized it was the same toad that had hopped onto his head on the train.

"Trevor!"

A boy with dark hair and a pitiful look in his eyes was staring worriedly at the toad.

"You're Neville?" John asked. The boy nodded and John said, "Don't worry; I'll pass him to you once we reach shore. In the meantime, I'll make sure he doesn't hop off."

Neville let out a sigh of relief and nodded while John began to pet the toad (Trevor, Neville had called him), making sure he couldn't escape by keeping his hand over him as well. Trevor the toad seemed quite content where he was, though, croaking happily as John stroked his back.

"I think that toad has a liking for you," Malfoy said with a snicker. John swiftly stomped his foot, making the boy cry out in pain.

"Maybe you shouldn't mock me when I'm around, pipsqueak," John said with his own snicker as Malfoy held his foot. "You should stick to hiding like a cowardly worm and talking about people behind their backs. You know, that way you can take your place on the food chain as the scared little bug you are."

Crabbe and Goyle did nothing as Malfoy held his foot and quietly whined.

Suddenly, John froze.

 _"_ _Where is the stone?"_

The voice of the man from John's dream a month ago was sounding off in his head. It was over with that one sentence, but that still didn't mean it wasn't weird. Especially since it sounded just like an angry Professor Quirrell (the man from the bar with a turban had introduced himself as that), minus the stutter.

"Hey, Malfoy," John said.

"W-what?" the boy stammered.

"Is foreseeing the future a type of magic?"

"Um, yes?"

"Is it accurate?"

"Uh, no."

"Good to know."

John stomped the boy's other foot for fun, making him cry out again. Crabbe and Goyle once again did nothing.

"Heads down!" Hagrid shouted as the first boats reached the cliff that Hogwarts sat on top of.

Everyone bent their heads except for Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy, who seemed to think that they were just fine where they were, and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. The three idiots in the boat with John hit their heads while he ducked. They were then all carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Neville quickly made his way to John who handed him Trevor. Neville thanked him and made his way back through the crowd.

"Dark, damp, and secluded," John said, looking around. "Are we about to get murdered?"

Luckily, they were not murdered. Instead, they clambered up a passageway after Hagrid's lamp, and eventually came out onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the impressive castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

-o-

 ** _(I always liked John. Among all of my OCs, he's the countriest being I've created thus far. I also find him Ironic when compared to me because of the fact that I personally don't curse, but he'll make a sailor jealous. I hope the few of you who read this enjoyed it and will leave a review. I would love for you to follow it and maybe even favorite it, same with my account, but only if you really enjoyed it and want to keep reading. Till next time!)_**


	6. Chapter 5: Fresh Off the Train

**_(Another chapter! I think this story is going well, but clearly, fanfiction disagrees since I still HAVEN'T GOTTEN A SINGLE REVIEW! Please review guys; as long as it isn't just to flame, of course. I hope you can enjoy this story. I OWN NOTHING!)_**

-o-

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and John immediately knew that she was gonna be one strict old bat.

 _Strict I can handle; let's just hope she's fair_ , thought John.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide open. The room was huge, big enough to fit a moderate house inside of. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, reminding John of the caverns at the Gringotts bank. The ceiling was too high up to make out and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

As McGonagall led the first years across the flagged stone floor, John made his way back over to Ron and Harry. He could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school was obviously already here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing much closer together than necessary, looking around nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's nose, which was smudged with dirt. John saw Harry nervously try to flatten his hair. John wasn't even going to bother with his almost shoulder-length mess; he knew better.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. John heard Harry gulp.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked, looking expectantly at Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

"Who's Fred?" John asked.

"One of my older brothers who goes here," Ron answered. "He's twins with George. They're both big pranksters, so I'm almost sure Fred was joking."

"Right," he said nervously.

John was now trying to calm his nerves through simple breathing exercises. A test? In front of the whole school? John had never learned any magic before; how in God's name was he supposed to pass? He thought it would be easy for him to get into Hogwarts, just like any other school. He looked around and saw that he wasn't the only one who was scared. In fact, Hermione Granger seemed to be the only person who _wasn't_ scared. She was whispering about all the spells she had learned and which one would likely be used as the basis of this "test". John immediately began to close his eyes and control his breathing with more focus. He imagined a still lake and his nerves began to calm down.

Suddenly, several loud screams pierced John's meditation.

"What the hell was—HOLY SHIT!" John had turned around to see what the commotion was about only to see several translucent people floating through the air, straight through solid walls.

There were about twenty of these see-through people and they seemed to be arguing.

"Forgive and forget, I say," a fat little monk was saying, "we ought to give him a second chance—"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

 _Having a heart attack because a ghost is talking to me_ , thought John. When nobody said anything, John spoke up with more than just his thoughts.

"Nobody gonna say it? Fine, I will; WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!"

Everyone in the room seemed taken aback, even the ghosts.

"Calm down, ghosts are normal in the wizarding world," Ron said before looking up at the spirits. "Sorry; he's not used to the wizarding world. Raised like a Muggle, he was."

"So then, you must all be the new students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them and forgetting John's outburst. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

"Ghost," John stated numbly.

A few people nodded mutely to the Friar's question.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

John was able to shake off the surprise of meeting ghosts when he heard that.

 _Okay, so ghosts are a thing. At least they're friendly. Thank God they're friendly. Now onto the Sorting! I'm gonna die…_

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

John had to use all his willpower just to move an inch. Luckily, he was able to make it to the line. He stood behind Ron, though he didn't pay attention to who was behind him, and walked carefully as the line made its way out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

John gasped. The Great Hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Preparing to pray for help, John looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History_."

"You mind lending me that book when this is over?" John asked nervously. "Because I'm about to have a heart attack if one more insane thing happens; I am not used to sudden change and I'd rather be able to know about it before it happens."

Hermione agreed to lend him the book as he stared at the ceiling. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open up to the heavens.

John stopped staring at the ceiling and darted his eyes over to Professor McGonagall as she silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. John reached behind Ron, nudged Harry, and pointed at it.

"I found an evil hat for me," he whispered with a quiet snicker. Harry began to snicker as well.

John was glad that he was able to make Harry laugh a little at his joke. Making people laugh was how John liked to deal with stress and fear. It was healthier than booze or drugs.

Suddenly, the hat twitched.

"What the hell?" John whispered under his breath.

A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

 _"_ _Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be Afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again while John stood staring at it, open mouthed.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll."

"I don't think the whole 'magic' thing really sank in until just now," John mumbled, looking across Ron over to Harry. "I'm feeling a little lightheaded."

Harry smiled weakly as he reach behind Ron and patted John's shoulder. John then noticed how nervous Harry looked as he gazed out upon the crowd.

 _Stage fright_ , he thought.

John said nothing as he looked out upon the other students in the room. John knew he had courage; he had stood up to bullies on several occasions, even before he had learned kickboxing, so he had a bit of Gryffindor. John had also always been loyal to anyone he deemed worthy as a true friend, so he could make an okay Hufflepuff, though Greg was the only one he could really use as an example as he had only recently met Harry or Ron. He was extremely smart, that was certain, so Ravenclaw would be a good match. However, despite all of that, John was born with the name Slytherin.

John was cunning in anything he did and often cheated or broke the rules in other ways to get his desired results. He wasn't a bad person, but he was willing to do just about anything for results. He could practically feel an inward tug saying that he belonged there.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down, and then—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. John saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; John spotted a set of twin boys with red hair, freckles, and long noses like Ron.

"Those two Fred and George?" John asked, pointing them out to Ron. Ron nodded.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. John looked to the table which started cheering at that and noticed that they all looked like a rough bunch, but then again, John was no flower himself when it came to his personality.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

John noticed that for some people, the hat immediately knew where they belonged, but for others, it took a while to decide. For example; "Finnigan, Seamus," took a while before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione Granger, the girl whom the boys had met on the train, almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. John watched with interest as she wandered over to the Gryffindor table with a confident smile on her face.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRIFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

John smiled.

"If I get put in with him," John whispered to Ron, "then I won't even need to ask if they have a gym here; I'll just use him as a punching bag!"

Ron had to fight to control his laughter as Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left after that.

"Moon"… "Nott"… "Parkinson"… then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"… then "Perks, Sally-Anne"… and then, at last —

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out all over the hall, surprising John by showing him just how much of a commotion Harry caused.

" _Potter_ , did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

Soon, Harry was sitting down on the school and letting the hat flop down on his head, where it covered his eyes. John watched him as several hundred people at the tables tried to do the same by craning their necks, not to mention everyone in the line. Even Ron seemed curious.

John noticed that Harry was white knuckle gripping the edges of the stool.

 _I wonder what's going on in that head of his._

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted after a while.

John smiled as Harry took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table, getting the loudest cheer yet. He was glad the closest he currently had to a friend was going to be in the right crowd. That was a good sign. Now, even if John was put in Slytherin, he had a fair chance of showing everyone that he wasn't some scumbag of the wizarding world.

Another red headed boy stood up and shook Harry's hand at the Gryffindor table.

"That's Percy, another one of my brothers," Ron whispered to John. "He's older than Fred and George, and he's a _Prefect_. Honestly, I wish he'd stop bragging about it."

John had no idea what a "Prefect" was, but he guessed it was kind of like a higher ranking student. He didn't think about it for long, though, as he was quickly distracted by the Weasley twins shouting "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

John watched as Harry sat down opposite of the ghost in the ruff that had spoken to them earlier. The ghost patted Harry's arm and he noticed that this made Harry shiver as if he were freezing.

"Slytherin, John!"

John's smile faltered as the entire room went deadly silent. He stepped forward, causing several glares to be thrown his way from the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and (most of all) Gryffindor tables. The only Slytherins that seemed to be glaring at him though were Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy.

John picked up the hat, sat down, and prayed to be a Gryffindor or Ravenclaw (he had thrown out all reserves about being a Slytherin the moment he saw the hateful stares being sent his way). He jammed the hat on his head, covering up his eyes, and waited.

"Well, well, well," a voice said in his head, "I never thought I'd see the day; a full-fledged member of the Slytherin family back in Hogwarts. The closest thing I'd previously gotten was the Slytherin member Tom Riddle. He had some of Salazar's blood in him too, but he wasn't quite like you.

"Now, let's see… fairly loyal and not afraid to fight for your friends, you'd be good in Hufflepuff… your mind is extraordinary, you'd be great in Ravenclaw… my, my, so much talent and potential, let me see… your courage would make you one of the best Gryffindors in years… but your cunning… you don't care about rules at all, do you? As long as it gets the job done, you'll do it, with a few exceptions, of course… oh my, you even have a basilisk wand; that means you must be a parceltongue… better be SLYTHERIN!"

John heard the hat shout the last word across the entire hall. He slowly stood up and removed the hat before setting it back on the stool. He walked to the only table that was cheering amidst the hateful stares that followed him. He sat down where no one was around him and ignored everyone at his table. He felt numb. He would once again be shunned and hated by almost an entire school, and he had no real idea as to why.

And now there were only four people left to be sorted.

"Thomas, Dean," a boy of African descent who was even taller than John joined the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. John whispered prayers of luck for Ron and a few seconds later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

John grinned halfheartedly as Ron made his way over to sit beside Harry. Percy the Prefect greeted him from across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Blaise sat down next to John and looked around like a scared deer.

John looked down at his empty gold plate. He had been starving before, despite all the treats on the train, but he no longer felt that way at this point.

"Welcome!"

John turned to look at the teachers' table and saw that Professor Albus Dumbledore had stood up and was now beaming at the students. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody but the Slytherin table clapped and cheered with the exception of John. He thought it was hilarious. He then stopped and eyed the brand new contents of his table dangerously.

John may have lost his appetite before, but that soon changed. All he had to do was look at the piles of food that had magically appeared.

"Mine," he said before grabbing everything he could and stuffing his face. He didn't even know what half of it was, but he didn't care. He recognized a few things as he was going through his meal like a vacuum: roast beef, pork chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, fries, peas, carrots, gravy, and ketchup.

John didn't even bother with his plate as he ate at incredible speeds. His metabolism kept him thin despite the fact that he constantly ate as much as he could. He would simply plow through every meal he could, never quite satisfied even once he was done. This lead to a great deal of shock at the Slytherin table as several of them stared in shock at John's vicious eating habits.

John soon noticed a ghost with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes covered in silver blood sitting beside him. Malfoy was on the opposite side of the ghost from John and didn't look too pleased with it.

"Hello," John said to the newly appeared ghost.

"Shut up and eat," the ghost croaked out.

"Well fuck you too, then," John said with a sneer, sticking up his middle finger at the ghost before he went back to stuffing his face. This seemed to shock the spirit into total silence. He clearly wasn't used to receiving blatant disrespect from anyone, much less a simple student. But, then again, John wasn't a simple student.

Soon enough, the food disappeared and the plates were sparkling clean, but the missing food was quickly replaced with blocks of ice cream. They came in several dozen flavors, including John's favorite, butter pecan. Apple pies, jam donuts, Jell-O, and several other sweats that he didn't recognize suddenly appeared as well. Nothing near him lasted for very long.

John soon became warm and sleepy once he had decided that he had devoured enough. The deserts soon disappeared as well and Dumbledore once again stood. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

John laughed and he heard a few others, such as Harry, laugh with him. But only a few.

"Holy shit, he's serious," John said. The ghost beside John snorted.

"Of course he's serious," he said with an evil grin. "Dumbledore rarely jokes about death in front of the whole school."

"You know," John said to the ghost, "you are one hell of a bore."

The ghost grunted and said, "The Bloody Baron will be whatever he wants."

"And today he wants to be a bore," John murmured. Then, John's hearing faded.

 _Kill the Slytherin! Kill him now!_

John shook his head as the shrill voice left his head and he was able to hear again.

John soon realized that he had missed a song.

"Ah, music," Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Slytherins all began filing out of the great hall and began going down the marble staircase, following the older students. After a while (and after going through the dungeons), John and the others came to a barren damp wall. John stuck beside Blaise Zabini since she still seemed to be frightened.

"Hey," John said, bumping her shoulder, "Calm down. You look like you're about to have a heart attack. Blaise Zabini, right?"

Blaise looked up and gave a frightened nod.

"My name is Johnathan Slytherin, but you can call me John," he said with a smile. "Don't worry; just stay relaxed and everything will be fine. I take it you don't know anyone here?"

Blaise shook her head.

"Me neither," said John, "and I could use someone I can trust. So what do ya say; wanna team up and help each other out?"

Blaise finally let out a weak smile and nodded.

"Draconis Parcelous," one of the older students suddenly said. A stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Everyone walked in.

"Welcome to the Slytherin common room," a tall boy with an ugly, scowling face and greasy black hair said.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low, underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them and several high-backed chairs surrounded it.

Two doorways were in the back of the room, each door being opened out towards them already, revealing staircases that spiraled up out of sight.

"This place looks like a dungeon," John said. "I love it!"

"The boys' dormitories are on the right, the girls' are on the left," the scowling boy continued. "Any problems, fix them yourselves."

Everyone snickered except John. He blatantly walked past the boy, surprising him and going up the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" the boy asked.

"To bed," John said, "and if you want to wake me, make a loud noise, because if you touch me, I'll likely kill you."

"Hey, wait a minute!" the boy said as John was about to turn back around.

"Yes?" John asked.

"First years have to go through initiation first," the boy said with an evil smile.

"I don't think so," John said. "You're likely going to do something cruel and I don't feel like dealing with it tonight."

The boy growled, took a step towards John, and grabbed the front of his robes.

"Now you listen here!"

John smiled, grabbed the boy's arm, and jumped into the air, spinning around and facing away from the boy, putting the his arm under him, and placing his legs on the boy's chest. He also continued with a spin that flipped the boy forward and onto his back. When it was over, the boy was trapped in a cross-arm-bar and crying out in pain.

"You will be leaving the first years alone tonight because I'm fast enough to hurt you before you even have a chance to reach for your wand," John said. "Now back off and let us rest."

John watched the boy nod desperately and looked to the group.

"Sorry about that everyone," John said as he released the boy, allowing him to go nurse his newly injured arm. "I don't like bullies. I assure you, as long as you don't bully anyone, I wont be a problem, unless you're a thief, which I hate even more. And even if you do bully someone, I'll only hurt you if you touch me or if I absolutely have to in order to protect someone else."

And with that, John walked upstairs, found the first years' dormitory, found a bed in the far corner of the room with his stuff around it, and went to sleep on it. the others followed soon after, and more than a few of the boys who came into the first year dormitory thanked John for getting them out of whatever the older kids had planned.

John was awoken three times in the night: the first time was by a Slytherin fifth year trying to open up his trunk (John placed his head in the doorway and slammed the door closed, leaving him on the floor, unconscious), the second time by Malfoy trying to draw on his face with a quill (John jammed the feather up his nose before throwing him out into the stairway), and the third time by Crabbe and Goyle trying to attack him in his sleep (he broke their arms).

John had sweet dreams after that.

-o-

 ** _(Hello Violent Tendencies, how have you been? The way I see it, I needed to make the perfect Slytherin; someone who's cunning and kind of evil but strong enough to back it all up. He's the perfect wizard... or is he? PLEASE REVIEW!)_**


	7. Chapter 6: Lessons to Learn

**_(And now we see John slowly get into the swing of things at Hogwarts. This should be interesting. Especially since my views are slowly going down on this story. *Sigh* Oh well. I OWN NOTHING!)_**

-o-

John enjoyed his time at school. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was ecstatic with his grades in his class, as was Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher, with his grades in hers, as he was on par with Hermione every time a grade came in, both of them always getting perfect scores.

Professor Sprout, the Herbology professor, was impressed with how well he handled the plants and was delighted to hear that Greg had made him do some gardening as a form of healthy labor, even if it was just with some muggle plants that provided fruits and vegetables.

Even Professor Binns was impressed by how quickly he caught on in History of Magic. Professor Binns was an old wizarding professor who had died one night in the teacher's lounge by the fire and became a ghost only to continue teaching the next day and every day after that.

Quirrell often praised John's grades, but he kept at a distance when he saw John's face. John kept scowling at the man, scaring him and amusing the other Slytherins as he freaked out more and more every time he saw John's evil look.

John couldn't help it; he had a deep distrust of Quirrell. He kept appearing in John's dreams, and ever since he had arrived in Hogwarts, he had been having the same dream; Quirrell, with two faces, tying him up with magic ribbons before being distracted by Harry, who seemed to burn his skin with the slightest touch.

On Friday, John was delighted to wake up to Malfoy trying to break into his trunk, most likely to get to the wand that John refused to let him have a look at.

"Now Draco, I hope you've learned your lesson; don't touch my things," John said in a friendly chastising tone, wagging his finger at Draco as he squirmed in the air, trying to free his underpants from his high bedpost. The other first years found it hilarious.

"Now, this is called the atomic wedgey," John said. "Maybe this will teach you better than to try and take things that aren't yours."

And with that, John left the Slytherin first year dormitory for breakfast along with several other laughing first years who had watched the whole thing.

-o-

"Double Potions with the Gryffindors today?" John asked, overhearing one of the other first years discussing it.

"Y-yeah," the first year girl he had overheard said. It was Blaise.

John had been busy in the house of Slytherin. Lots of kids had already had a great deal of respect for him due to his last name, but after he had dealt with the thieves and pranksters, John became feared. Granted, many in his own year liked him because of how he dealt with Malfoy (except for the other scum who were like Malfoy), whom had tried to bully almost all of them into submission at some point or another.

That still didn't prevent older students from being scared of him due to his first night, however, or the few nights after that when someone from another year had tried to steal his stuff or mess with him.

The only thing anyone could try on him was curses, and the older boys weren't willing to do that because they thought he'd get them in their sleep. And they were right.

"Thanks, Blaise," John said. "And relax; I don't mess with anyone who doesn't mess with me. Besides; I don't hit girls."

"Y-you're w-welcome," she stuttered in fear. "I-I'll try to remember that."

 _Guess I spooked her that first night when I hurt that older kid. I'll have to try to act better._

John went and sat down next to the Bloody Baron again, who said nothing at the boy's arrival, but instead passively sat in his seat as the boy began stuffing his face ferociously.

Soon enough, the mail arrived that morning. John received a letter from Hagrid asking him to come see him and to send an answer back with Grim.

Grim the owl currently had his entire head jammed inside a pile of sausages while his legs and body were pointed directly up. He was slowly sinking as he could be heard devouring the sausages as viciously as John devoured his own food.

John wrote down his response on the back of the note with his black quill, grabbed the bird's leg, and pulled him out of the pile of sausages. The bird stared at him in curiosity as he continued slurping down a sausage.

"You can eat at the owlery," John said. "Right now, you need to take my response back to Hagrid." John tied the note to the large owl's leg, but before the creature took off, he placed a hand on its head.

"Hey, how's trying to woo Hedwig going?" John asked.

Grim's head drooped and John patted his back. "It'll all work out in the end," he said. "It always does."

Grim hooted glumly and flew off. John noticed that the entire table was looking at him.

"What?" he asked, "I like my pet. And he's extremely intelligent."

Everyone went back to their food.

-o-

Potions class was easy for John to understand when it came to the actual potions part. It was the teacher he didn't like. Granted, Snape seemed to like him; the problem was how much he mistreated Harry and the other Gryffindors. John hated it whenever someone mistreated another simply because they had power or fame.

Snape began class with roll call and paused at Harry's name.

John was sitting at a table with Harry and Ron, completely at ease around the two non-Slytherins.

"Ah, yes," Snape said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new… _celebrity_."

Draco Malfoy and his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, snickered behind their hands until John gave them an evil look to shut them all up. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and reminded John of the dark dungeon tunnels that led to the Slytherin common room entrance.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death; if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry, Ron, and John all exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir," Harry said.

"Slytherin!"

"Yes, sir?" John asked, maintaining eye contact when Snape turned on him.

"Same question."

"You get a powerful sleeping potion known as Draught of the Living Dead."

"Excellent," Snape said with a sneer. "Ten points to Slytherin. And all of you should be writing that down!"

John realized Snape's game at this point. He had heard of John's talent and memory from the other teachers. After all, John's eidetic memory was no secret. He had read all of his class books and memorized every word, which his teachers soon found out when they asked how he knew every answer to every question they asked. Snape must of heard about this and was using it against Harry.

John picked up his quill and began to write loudly as Snape asked the next question.

"Now, Potter, where would you look if I asked you to bring me a Bezoar stone?"

"Belly of a goat," John whispered to Harry as he scribbled loudly, hiding his lip movements and the noise of his speaking from Snape.

"In the belly of a goat, sir?" Harry said.

Snape lost his sneer.

"Slytherin; what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"They're the same plant, sir," John said, "Known in the Muggle world for being deadly when inhaled, devoured, or injected into the bloodstream."

"Very good; ten points to Slytherin," Snape said snidely.

John raised his hand.

"Yes?" Snape asked.

"Um, sir, I think you forgot to give Gryffindor its points," John said innocently, "After all; Harry answered an equally if not more difficult question than I did; shouldn't he get at least ten points for Gryffindor?"

Snape's jaw clenched as John kept up his innocent appearance; if he was gonna play this man, he needed to do it right.

Finally, Snape broke. "You are right, Slytherin, I must have forgotten; ten points to Gryffindor."

Every Gryffindor in the room stared at John in awe and respect. The Slytherins looked a little upset but not too much. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle to be on the verge of tears as they soon realized just how John got put into the house built around the aspect of being cunning; he was the most manipulative boy in the school.

Soon enough, the class was split into groups. Malfoy was paired up with John while Ron was paired up with Harry. Snape criticized everyone except for the Slytherins, especially when it came to Malfoy and John.

He was just telling the class to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when John suddenly shot his arm out and grabbed the wrist of the boy beside him; Neville Longbottom.

Neville shouted out in surprise and the entire class, including Snape, turned to look.

"You almost did it, Neville," John said, holding the boy's wrist as he looked at the porcupine quills in the very same hand that was attached to the end of that wrist. "You don't add them while the cauldron is still over the fire or else you'll create an acidic, boil-making reject of a potion. Just take a breath and focus or else you'll lose your head and you'll never be able to do this potion right."

Neville gulped and nodded. John released his wrist before going back to his own cauldron.

"Ten more points to Slytherin," Snape said with an evil grin.

 _Damn it!_ John thought. _And I was just trying to help the kid; I don't want my house to win because of this! I have morals, ya know!_

-o-

"Snape's an ass," John said as he walked between Ron and Harry. "He was so unfair to Gryffindor. I should have found a way to get one of you to stop Neville; then I wouldn't have had to get my house those points."

"I agree about Snape but why don't you want to earn Slytherin any points?" Ron asked curiously.

"I do, but not like that," John stated. "Sometimes, I wish I had been put in Gryffindor…"

Ron nodded. "Well, it isn't your fault," Ron said. "After all; you're trying to make things right, and that's more than what anyone else in Slytherin is doing."

Ron then suddenly tuned to Harry. "Hey, Harry, can I come and meet Hagrid with you? I always heard Fred and George say he was really nice even though he kept chasing them away from the forest."

"You're going to see him, too?" John asked. Harry nodded.

"So was I. All right then, let's go see what he wants. I'm sure he'll be interested to hear about Snape."

At five to three, they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked, they head a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang — back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. John liked the look of the dog; he could just tell that it was a friendly giant like Hagrid. Plus he liked animals.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at John and started trying to lick his face, which John would not allow.

"Hey, anywhere but the face, big guy," John said, dodging the dog's tongue and scratching him just behind the ear, causing him to fall to the floor and start kicking his leg. This made Hagrid chuckle a bit.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins in them. John caught the looks of displeasure on Ron and Harry's faces as they tried to eat the cakes, though they put up a good, cheerful front whenever Hagrid looked at them. John didn't have to pretend as Harry and Ron told Hagrid about their lessons; as soon as Hagrid's attention was away, John grabbed all of the rock cakes and stuffed them into his mouth before easily chewing through all of them and finishing them off, all in less than five seconds.

John then told Hagrid of his classes when Ron and Harry were done. He spoke of how Sprout was happy to see a boy who had actually had hands-on gardening experience for a change, even if it was just with Muggle plants. He spoke of how McGonagall had practically beamed at him when he had changed a match into a needle on his first try. He even spoke about how Flitwick had been afraid to speak to him at first until John was able to win him over with his excellent charm skills. The only things John didn't mention were his constant death stare habits with Quirrell.

That's when John got down to the Snape lesson.

"He really seemed to hate me," Harry said, suddenly becoming active in the conversation.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

"You don't understand, Hagrid," John insisted, "Snape really does hate him. He tried to use me to humiliate him! Luckily, I was able to help Harry out, but I'm not sure how much more I can do for the rest of the year."

"Ah, I'm sure it was nothin'," Hagrid said, though John could swear he saw Hagrid purposely avoiding eye contact with Harry.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot — great with animals."

He changed the subject on purpose, thought John.

While Ron told Hagrid all about his older brother's work studying Dragons in Romania, John watched Harry pick up a newspaper clipping from under a tea cozy. He saw that it was about the Gringotts break in, but not much else.

John began going through several cups of hot tea. He preferred it cold, but he considered wasting any food to be a sin. So, the tea soon disappeared, and as John was pressing the cup with the last bit to his lips, Harry spoke out.

"Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were still there!"

John spurted tea out his nose and coughed it up, but that didn't stop him from noticing Hagrid avert his eyes from Harry's.

 _Now I'm curious_ , he thought as he cleaned off his robes, _What was in that vault Hagrid had emptied? Because there's no way that this is just one big coincidence._

-o-

 ** _(What's in the vault?! What's in the fucking vault?! It's funny because I don't even curse out loud and because it's a reference. Well, you all know where this is going. PLEASE REVIEW!)_**


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